A Spirit by Any Other Name
by Ketakoshka Kathleen Castlionia
Summary: Once, Dexter made friends with the spirit that was supposed to take him. And now CJ's back, and he wants nothing more than to have his friend by his side. How would the series change with CJ as a good guy?


**Disclaimer: I don't own Freakazoid.**

 **Warnings: some minor hints of Dexter x CJ, but it's mostly a bromance of sorts between Dex and Freak/Dex and CJ. This will be mostly humorous, so don't expect seriousness all of the time, especially when Freak and CJ are 'on screen' together.**

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 **So, I've got a new Freakazoid story idea. I wanted to play with the idea of Candle Jack and Dex being friends... So I wrote it.**

 **Hope you enjoy Part 1,**

 **Love, Keta.**

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Part 1: The Man from the Mirror

"Duncan Douglas, you have two choices here! You can take Dexter or you won't go!"

In most cases, Duncan would defy his mother, considering that punishments are few and far in between, but the possibility of it actually happening is enough to still the bitch fit that he wants to throw. This fear of being kept from his friends is the reason why seven year-old Dexter Douglas ends up at Maggie's house for a sleepover.

Maggie's mother was thrilled to have him there. The moment he walked in the door, the gentle, plump woman led him into the kitchen after helping him remove his old trainers and slightly oversized coat. She asks him what kind of snacks he'd like, but Dexter isn't exactly picky, so he takes whatever she offers him.

After she's decided that he's been sufficiently loaded down with snacks, she takes him downstairs where the ten year-olds are lounging about on wads of blankets, piles of pillows and the old lumpy couch that smelled faintly musty. For the most part, the older kids decided to ignore him, but that's until someone gets the bright idea to tell scary stories.

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"And then if you say his name, he'll come out and tie you up! Then he'll take you away!"

"Who will?" Dexter asks, clearly confused, but this is understandable as the boy had been preoccupied with trying to stop Duncan from smothering him with one of the many pillows.

"Well," the girl who had been telling the story starts, "Candle…" She quickly mutters something under her breath. "Jack, of course."

"But you just said his name," Dex points out. "Won't he come and get you now?"

"Of course not," Duncan replies, an rare idea hatching in his tiny brain. "He isn't real."

A few moments later, Maggie catches onto his ploy, and the girl motions for the others to play along. "Everyone calls on him, though. That way everyone knows that you're not a baby." The grin on her face makes Dexter feel uncomfortable. "Have you called on him yet?"

"No," he replies, not seeing where she's going with this.

"Well, you better do it tonight, or I'll tell everyone that you're a baby at school on Monday."

That seems like a death sentence to Dexter, and he hopes that his brother is kidding. "You wouldn't!"

Duncan, smirking and mentally patting himself on the back for horrifying his meddlesome brother, stands up to loom over the angry and nearly petrified child. "Why wouldn't I? It's not like I like you, Dexter." His smirk only grows brighter when he sees the hurt in the boy's eyes.

"I'll help you if you're too scared," Maggie says and offers her hand to the seven year-old, having stood up at the same time as Duncan. Dex nods and quickly grabs it, somehow missing the predatory gleam in her eyes.

She leads him to the bathroom in the basement, neither of them acknowledging the eyes that follow them with a similar demented gleam that her's caries. She opens the door for him and gestures for him to go first. Once he's inside, Maggie lays her hands on his shoulders and turns him to look into the mirror.

"Candle Jack," she whispers, and Dexter visibly shivers. "Candle Jack!" She pushes him slightly into the sink, the porcelain biting into the soft flesh of his belly, and he stumbles sideways while she slams the door behind him.

He pounds on the door, pleading for someone to let him go, but all he hears is laughter. "Please! Please let me out!" The air in the bathroom chills considerably, and all sound seems to disappear. He can't even hear his own screams, but his heart starts to thud against his chest. He feels wetness spill down his cheeks, but he doesn't want to cry. He can't start crying; they'll never let him go if he does.

He sinks to the ground nearly ten minutes into his fruitless attempts to get out, and he buries his head in his hands to hide the fact that he can't will away the tears from invisible men who are no doubt laughing viciously at him.

However, if he'd been looking up, he would have seen the very creature that Maggie tried to frighten him with come floating out of the mirror in search of the one who'd said his name. The creature has a vaguely human shape, but he's completely covered by black clothes and a gray, pointed hood with large hole cut out for his glowing eyes. He's not exactly threatening to look at, but there's no doubt that this is monster that steals people who say his name.

He hears a stuttering sob, and he turns his head to look at the boy curled up on the ground beside the bathtub. He narrows his glowing eyes, wondering if this was the one who spoke his name, but a part of him vehemently denies this idea. No, he's almost certain that this is not the one who summoned him.

"Hello, little one."

At this kind, almost lilting voice, Dexter finally looks up and sees the creature floating before him. His eyes are red and puffy, betraying his current activity, but he doesn't want anyone to think that he's a baby; that's what got him into this predicament in the first place. He swipes his arm under his snotty nose, smearing it on his unbearably ugly, teal sweater, and with the other, he removes his glasses. They clink on the ground beside him, and he quickly wipes his eyes before cleaning and replacing them.

"Who are you?" he eventually asks, realizing that it's rude to ignore the man.

The spirit's eyes widen, but he smiles. The complete lack of recognition only serves to confirm his earlier suspicions; this isn't the child that called his name.

He wonders if he should just tell the boy who he is and allow him to say his name. But… Those innocent blue eyes look up at him without a hint of fear or disgust or worry. No, this boy isn't afraid of him, and that's nice for a change.

"You can call me CJ."

"CJ?" He nods, and the brunette's face turns so bright with the smile that blossoms there. "It's nice to meet you, CJ! My name's Dexter!"

"Dexter?" he replies, and Dex nods vigorously. "Well, it's nice to meet you Dexter." He floats down to sit beside him on the spacious floor. "So… why are you sitting in a bathroom?"

His face falls slightly. "My brother told me that if I didn't call upon the ghost that steals people when you say his name that he'd tell everyone at school that I'm a baby. His friend Maggie offered to help me, but she shouted his name and shut me in here."

"Well, that's mean of them."

"Yeah. Duncan's always mean to me, though."

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They sit and talk for hours, and the children outside never come back to unlock the door. Sometime in the hours, Candle Jack grows so angry that he nearly floats out into the hall and tears the little brats to shreds. But he doesn't because Dexter seems so happy that he's there.

At some point, Dex falls asleep, and Candle Jack allows the boy to rest on his shoulder. Dex's quiet breaths do little to calm him, but at the same time, he feels such elation that he never wants it to end. The anger inside of him won't abate, though, but he has no idea why he's even angry to start with. He briefly entertains the idea that he's mad that Dexter isn't afraid of him, but that isn't it. No, it seems more likely that he's pissed about the little bastards that had dared make such a vibrant boy cry.

He wonders if he could take him back with him…

But Dexter didn't say his name…

That brat Maggie did.

Maggie goes missing a few days later.


End file.
